I was delighted to be able to read this book, and to see every author'os approach to sci-fy, especially female authors.

I do not understand why this book is still listed for me I send my feedback three years ago. Sending this to remove,

Marie Brennan’s excellent new book Driftwood got me thinking a lot about forgotten stories. You know you’re an /r/Fantasy-ian when you find your ever-growing personal Mount Readmore a source of significant anxiety, but you can’t stop adding titles anyway. We all know the Twilight Zone episode “Time Enough at Last,” even if only for the last bit where his glasses break. We get that guy. And, at least in my case, that’s really only looking at all the great new stuff coming out nearly every day in the SF/F world. It doesn’t even touch on the backlog.

Things like self-publishing and the rise of small press publications also get me thinking (and this is where Driftwood really got to me) of all the wonderful things that will never be read. More casual readers might not know this, but /r/Fantasy favorites like Senlin Ascends and Riyria Revelations started out as self-published because no publisher wanted them. So Josiah Bancroft and Michael J. Sullivan, like many others, self-published, and their books were able to find an audience and take off.

Go back 10 years, maybe 15 at most, and that. Could. Not. Have. Happened. Wonderful books like Riyria and Senlin would have been forgotten. Not even forgotten: never given the chance to live at all. They would have only ever been a thing in the author’s imagination. Say what you will about Amazon (and I’ll say a lot about Amazon), I’m eternally grateful for the role they’ve played in letting all these books come into being.

This is getting a bit afield from my review of Rediscovery, but when I think of all the wonderful writing talent that could have flourished over the decades and centuries and never got the chance, it makes me want to cry. So many worlds withered on the vine, so many lives unmoved that might have been. This is especially true of women authors and authors of color. Publishing was a man’s world, and generally a white man’s world. Women and people of color got published, but they were exceptions (and, as such, exceptional). These are huge populations of potential talent that were largely untapped. Rediscovery is a conscious attempt to push back against that.

The editors here looked, specifically, for short stories written by women and published in the 50s and 60s. They include a bit about each author, written by a current writer, talking about their lives and bibliographies. They were all published in well-known magazines such as Astounding Science Fiction and Amazing Stories and the like. Often they wrote under male pen names, or gender-neutral ones, or just used their initials to make things easier. (Still happens today - it was at the publisher’s insistence that Harry Potter got published with “J.K. Rowling” on the cover instead of “Joan Rowling.” And about once a week at /r/Fantasy we get someone who is surprised to learn that Robin Hobb is actually a woman named Megan Lindholm.)

The stories themselves are fairly typical of Silver Age science fiction. They differ from most stuff of the era in that they are definitely more progressive in their views of gender, race, and colonialism than one might expect. No Robert A. Heinlein-ish sexism (or at least, no Robert A. Heinlein-ish sexism without a hearty eye-roll or three thrown in).

Some favorite stories:

Of All Possible Worlds by Rosel George Brown tells the story of an anthropologist spending five years among an alien society. Enjoyable story of someone going native in a very alien society.

Satisfaction Guaranteed by Joy Leache. A planet inhabited by people who look an awful lot like leprechauns wants to join the Galactic Federation. They need to demonstrate that they won’t be a burden on the Federation, though, and hire a consultant to help them figure out something they can successfully sell on the galactic market.

The Pleiades by Otis Kidwell Burger. Short story set in a society that has achieved immortality. When everyone lives forever, in perfect health, the pleasures of the flesh become relatively unimportant. So what’s the appeal of a burlesque show in such a society? Read and find out!

Unwillingly to School by Pauline Ashwell. This one was probably my favorite. It starts with a young woman on a frontier planet getting her father to the hospital in a rough mining town for medical care. Angry and frustrated over her father’s injury and the patronizing doctors, she deliberately goes into the roughest bar in town looking for a fight and instead manages to trigger the protective instincts of all the hard-bitten prospectors in the place. Eventually she is semi-unwillingly sent back to Earth for college. A first person story, I really appreciate how the grammar and vocabulary got steadily better as she got more and more educated.

All in all a rewarding and interesting read. Thanks to Journey Press and NetGalley for the ARC.

Like most anthologies this had stories I really like and stories I didn't like so much. I've read a lot of classic sci-fi this year and I do have to say these women did a lot better with scientifically accurate information than most of the men I read from the time period (but hey maybe because these are short stories they didn't have time to be inaccurate)

overall I very much enjoyed reading these stories by women

I hadn’t read much old science fiction before reading the anthology, and I wasn’t sure I’d like it. As someone who follows a number of women who write on social media, however, I am aware of how much discrimination women still face today—in writing in general, but also science fiction and fantasy specifically. When I found this anthology on Netgalley, I was immediately intrigued, because I think of the 50s and 60s as somewhat of a dark age in terms of women’s rights. This anthology was a great reminder that women always have, and always will, persevere, even in the face of discrimination.
Straight off the bat I loved that the anthology pointed out that science fiction struggles with diversity. It is pointed out that the genre is becoming more diverse, but sci fi (even more than most other genres) has been overwhelmingly dominated by straight, white, male authors. Anthologies like Rediscovery are thus important not just to showcase great fiction that may not have received enough acclaim in it’s time, but to shift the perception of the genre as a whole and make more room for diverse works, to enliven science fiction as a whole.
Unhuman Sacrifice by Katherine MacLean was a great start to the anthology, and I loved the Pratchett-esque banter and irony present throughout the story. The switches to the perspective of Spet also provided touches of humour, and allowed the messages of colonialism to hit home even harder. The story was an entertaining look at the arrogance involved in interfering in a way of life you do not understand, the way everyone tends to project their own experiences, and also provided an interesting look at the fear of—and futility of fighting—the natural aging process.
Judith Merrel’s Wish Upon a Star had some interesting gender commentary, and I was glad that she didn’t shy away from having unlikeable characters present in both the men and women in the story, and likewise with level-headed, nurturing characters. Sheik (the main character) is a boy who resents the injustice of being denied leadership on the basis of his gender, and this set-up is probably far more likely (even today, but probably especially so in the 50s and 60s) to gently show men how unfair the situations are in which women often find themselves. I wish the story had resolved more fully, and I found it hard to sympathise with a male character essentially wishing that women were more subservient so that he might benefit, but I appreciated the aim of the story and may seek out more work by the author to see how themes of gender are explored in her other works.
A Matter of Proportion by Anne Walker Gutterman stood out for a few reasons. One being that characters with disabilities are rare in all fiction, especially science fiction where it might seem reasonable for any such differences to be ‘fixed’ with technology of some kind. The other was the odd structure of the story, with the majority of the life-or-death tension up front, and the latter part of the story dealing with a more social/emotional goal, with equivalent stakes; the outcome of which is also known. I enjoyed the story, and appreciated the classically science fiction chance to see through the eyes of a character whose life is very different to mine, and I believe—strange structure aside—that A Matter of Proportion made a strong addition to the Rediscovery anthology.
Jane Rice’s The White Pony is one of the strongest stories in the collection, in my opinion, and I loved the humour interwoven with seamless world building and foreshadowed hints of the story to come. The jabs at the artistic, unconventional life people assume writers lead was an entertaining way to develop the main character, and I loved the way Bill fell in love with Margie in part for her way with words. The descriptive language in this short story is incredible, equal parts relaying factual information and giving an impression of a person or situation that gives much more of a sense, The White Pony is nearly poetic in its ability to quickly convey complex sentiments in a few descriptive phrases. The ending is surprising and touching and wise, all at once, and I feel the need to share this quote from the work, as I feel it neatly sums up the appeal of The White Pony—
“I saw it was the day-to-day stuff that was the challenge and required the most bravery and made the best story in the long run.”
In terms of subtly unusual, thoroughly engrossing day-to-day stuff, it would be hard to beat Jane Rice.
Step IV by Rosel George Brown was a conflicting story for me, because while I found the set-up and some of the commentary fascinating, I felt like the main character’s motivations weren’t adequately fleshed out. Men and women were cast as two rigidly defined groups, and while this was done for reason of commentary, I feel it made the ending rather pessimistic, as though equality is a child’s dream rather than a goal worth working towards. I did enjoy this story, but I wish Juba’s motivations had been a little more clearly motivated.
Rosel George Brown was also the author of the next entry in the anthology, Of All Possible Worlds. I loved the idea of an explorer who not only didn’t, but couldn’t bargain, threaten or otherwise persuade foreign cultures to accommodate them. In Rosel George Brown’s words: “You have nothing to offer but yourself. So you try to make that good.” Words to live by.
I also liked the way prejudice didn’t magically not exist in the main character, but rather it was something he had to actively fight against within himself, the message is as timely now as it was in the 50s or 60s. This story had no firm message to it, and the ending, while haunting, was rather ambiguous. Of All Possible Worlds does not so much tell readers what to do or think, but rather expand one part of life so thoroughly but you can’t help but notice it, any change you wish to see you are then responsible for making. I enjoyed the short story, and the haunting ending, but those wishing a more conclusive finale may be disappointed.
One of the highlights of this anthology is the sheer range of genres, tones and styles of writing which it includes, even given the rather narrow scope of the stories (science fiction, written by women, in the years 1958-1963). Satisfaction Guaranteed by Joy Leache is a great example of this, as the writing style is reminiscent somehow of a cartoon strip, or an old-timey sit com. I’m reminded once more of Terry Pratchett’s writing by this story, and perhaps if Pratchett wrote Mad Men it would’ve been a little like Satisfaction Guaranteed. I enjoyed this story, and the clever ways Miss Featherpenny got around them. The characters of this story, though hastily presented (as is standard in short stories with more than two characters) were entertaining, familiar, and sympathetic—though I still think Miss Featherpenny could have aimed higher. The setting was whimsical without being ridiculous, and the commentary on gender politics, consumerism and the dehumanisation of entertainers is timeless.
Maria Russel’s The Deer Park was a beautifully written, somewhat disturbing look at the ultimate emptiness of a controlled, perfect life that so many people ostensibly strive for. I absolutely loved the character of Ronde, and the reflection of Vwal and the fantasy world that she lived in that both she and the Envoy provided, though with opposing viewpoints on the life that Vwal himself was living.
To Lift a Ship by Kit Reed was a great mix of 60s technology (black and white films!) and the presumed technology that was soon to be developed. This contradiction made for an interesting story, and I thoroughly enjoyed the way this story ended.
The Putnam Tradition by Sonya Hess Dorman sets up a world that I would gladly read a book or series about, and I loved the almost urban-fantasy feel of it. I loved the different presentations of women present in the novel, and the focus on family that allowed for both character development and backstory in one. I loved the challenging of traditional values based on fear, and I always appreciate an antagonist that is not a villain. The touches of humour are a lovely addition to the story, and The Putnam Tradition was certainly a stand out for me from this anthology.
Otis Kidwell Burger’s The Pleiades is my favourite story of the bunch, and one that I believe will stick with many readers of it. The novelty carnival setting is a great counterpoint to the morbid themes of the story, and without spoiling the magnificent twist ending of this story—magnificently foreshadowed in the rich world-building that precedes it—the message is similar to that of The Deer Park, a criticism of empty, manufactured perfectionism.
Doris Pitkin Buck’s No Trading Voyage was odd, I enjoyed the writing style of the story, but fond the ultimate message a bit unclear. The obstacles that drove the plot also felt a little hollow because of the impersonal way they were described, though again, I did enjoy the story.
Cornie on the Walls by Sydney van Sycoc was another favourite of mine within the anthology, and was a little reminiscent of Edgar Allen Poe at times. I was also reminded of Anne McCaffrey’s Ship Who Sang and Robin Hobb’s Liveship series’, and the supposed blending of man and machine is certainly an intriguing one. Cornie on the Walls also deals with the control men at the time had over their partner’s lives, and themes of mental health and grief in a way that is disturbing and intriguing in equal parts.
Unwillingly to School by Pauline Ashwell was yet another of my favourites, though when I began reading it I didn’t realise it was the last story, as it was far longer than I anticipated. The story it tells is surprisingly nuanced, and I loved the determination the main character had without impinging on how entertaining it was to read of her exploits. This story is funny, and tackles serious subjects like health, wealth and disabilities without making light of any of them, and for that reason alone would be worth reading. However, Unwillingly to School also has great characterisation, and a touching reminder of the benefit of asking for help and sharing ideas.
A theme that had become obvious throughout the anthology was the restricted role women played in society at the time these works were written, and much as Kit Reed wrote of psychic craft but did not assume that films would play in colour, while the women in these stories are strong, resourceful and nuanced, they often still take a backseat to the men in the story. Rediscovery is not just a collection of amazing science fiction, it’s a reminder of the need to seek out and lift up diverse voices, not just to enjoy what they have to say, but to create an environment where everyone feels free to share ideas, for the benefit of all.
There’s such a diversity of tone among the works in this anthology that I can make no sweeping recommendations as to who might enjoy this work, but I believe anyone who enjoys science fiction will find something to enjoy in Rediscovery: SF by Women.

This is an interesting anthology of silver age sci-fi written by women.
Some of these stories are quite fresh, some didn't age well. It was an entertaining read and I'm happy I discovered some interesting stories by unknown to me women.
Recommended.
Many thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for this ARC, all opinions are mine.

Here is a collection of sci-fi stories (and one novella) written and published in the 1950s and '60s, all written by women. And it is an excellent collection.

Most of the stories are so fresh, they could easily have been written today (there are a couple that lean more into '50s pulp, although they tend to make fun of it). There's a sly but unobtrusive feminism spun through quite a few stories, and two stories feature a main character with a disability.

One of my favourites is Unhuman Sacrifice, by Katherine MacLean. A crew sets down on a planet, to make contact with and learn the language of its indigenous people. The future technology is described in such a beautiful way, and is imagined in such an surprisingly unflashy, utilitarian way.

"The stocky engineer hung a clear respirator box over a shoulder, brought the tube up to his mouth, and walked through the plastic film. It folded over him and wrapped him in an intimate tacky embrace, and gripped to its own surface behind him, sealing itself around him like a loose skin. Just past the arch he walked through a frame of metal like a man-sized croquet wicket and stopped while it tightened a noose around the trailing films of plastic behind him, cutting him free of the doorway curtain and sealing the break with heat."
- Unhuman Sacrifice

Another top story for me is Cornie On The Walls (by Sydney van Scyoc), which veers into a mix of horror and sci-fi. An artist gets himself entombed via technology into his house, thereby becoming a 'living house'. With the power of his mind he can project any image on the walls. People visit these living houses, but our main character seems obsessed with projecting his wife, Cornie.

"He covered his walls with death, felt certain that even his body quivered in its chamber, his body that had been surgically paralyzed the day they had wired him into Central Control.
When he was certain she was purged, he let blood and death wash down his walls into puddles which faded from his floors, leaving him clean, white and alone.
But he was not alone. Blood dripped still from the northwest corner of the chamber, dripped and ran down the wall in a pattern which was Cornie."
- Cornie On The Walls

I was blown away by the concept of the story, just contemplating why someone would do this, what the effect on a human psyche would be.

Be prepared to keep a notepad handy - if you're anything like me, you'll be jotting down a lot of author names to look up more of their work (in my experience, a lot of their work is only available second hand, but affordable).

Each story is introduced by a current writer, in which a short biography is given (if there even is one available in some cases), and a discussion of themes in the story. Personally, I bookmarked an introduction, skipped it and first read the story, and then came back to read the introduction.

In summation, highly recommended to any reader of sci-fi, and I can only hope more people will give these forgotten authors the attention they deserve.

Creating a collection entirely out of classic SF stories by women is an interesting idea, mainly because it leaves so much room to have very different short stories while also having the readers look for a common theme. All of this, of course, sidelined to just raising awareness for these forgotten authors.

I think just as a collection, it very much succeeds: The stories vary immensely in style, theme and premises, one entry is even in poetry form. Some them are connected by overall themes of (power) dynamics between women and men, identity and relationships, as well as interacting with alien planets and cultures, although they all handle the subjects in different ways.

On a story to story level, the collection was a less successful experience for me. I think they are all well written, a good share of them had a pretty modern writing style, and like I said, there are good and interesting topics in there, but I connected with very few of them and only one really blew me away in its execution. There is an interesting introduction to every author and story, however must of them include some kind of spoiler and it boggles me that this wasn’t noticed and subsequent decided to put this text at the end of each story.

I don´t want to get into the individual texts, but in general, a lot of them did not manage to draw me in or create much of a response. There was a good share were the moral or outcome was predictable, one story had a really unsatisfying ending, one was downright depressing. It´s more of a personal thing and I think the collection is worth giving a try, but I do have to mention that.

I did like that a lot of the stories include relatable or likable characters, even for a modern sensibility, and that sometimes expectations one would normally have are subverted or played with.

I feel the need to mention that one of the stories has the potential to be interpreted in a way that might perpetuate or suggest the harmful narrative that all men are bad or even rapists I have seen going around the internet. The text itself is effective in creating an atmosphere and emotional response, so maybe it deserves the attention it gets by being republished, however I don´t know how I feel it being included in this collection with the current climate going on.

Rating as collection: 4 stars
Rating of the stories: 3 stars

This reminded me very much of <i>The Feminine Future: Early Science Fiction by Women Writers</i>, in that it reintroduces us to excellent stories by writers who are mostly, undeservedly, forgotten today. The other book has an earlier timeframe (1873 to 1930), and there are some clear differences. The women of that earlier time were mostly writing male points of view, sometimes under male names; by the late 1950s, when <i>Rediscovery</i> kicks off, women were still sometimes writing under male or ambiguous names (as indeed they are today), but a lot of their stories were from a female viewpoint.

It also reminded me a little of stories I've read by male authors in the same period, in that a lot of the stories assume that men are inherently <i>this</i> way and women are inherently <i>that</i> way, and the sexes are at war, and there will never be peace or alliance between them; they're too different. However far we still have to go, the intervening three generations have, at least, made progress in both of those respects; we recognize a much wider (and much more overlapping) range of ways of being for both men and women, and, while, as I say, there's still plenty of room for improvement, men and women are now able to be friends, allies, and colleagues while also being or not being lovers. Here, though, we see the early stirrings of modern feminism, when men (rather than patriarchy) were still seen as the problem, and a hard problem at that - perhaps insoluble.

Not every story is like that, though (and, don't get me wrong, the ones that are like that are still fine stories with a strong impact). Some of them are just really good stories of their time; some would stand up well if first published today, though there are a few that lean a bit too heavily on the tropes (and social assumptions) of the period to have aged well. They often take those tropes in a new and interesting direction, though.

One unfortunate thing, and I will mention it even though I read a review copy from Netgalley, because I know the book's been out for a while and assume I got the published version. Stories of the pre-digital age are usually reprinted by being scanned and having optical character recognition run over them, and despite being in use for more than 25 years, this technology is still not always accurate in its transcriptions and tends to produce typos. Some of them were easy to miss (some of them, no doubt, I did miss), but about half of the ones I noticed could have been caught with spellcheck. I don't know why people use OCR and then don't spellcheck. (Getting a machine to read it aloud while you read along would also be a good means of avoiding these issues, if you had the time.)

This doesn't detract much, though, from what is a fine collection of stories that should be more widely known. They are unpredictable, emotionally powerful, thoughtful, humane, and excellently crafted. As the editor's introduction notes, because of the prejudice against women that existed in the SFF field at the time, a woman had to be that much better to compete, and these women are fine writers who are long overdue to be rediscovered.

Thank you to Netgalley & the Publisher for giving me a copy to review!

Just an average collection. I would have more to say but, it was just ok?
The stories here definitely have historical merit, and it would be invaluable as a tool to study the writing of early women in science fiction. But, most of the stories were just not enjoyable for me to read, and I struggled to even feel like the stories had any form of stakes.

Would be very helpful as a resource, but maybe not so much as something you read for fun.

Rediscovery: Science Fiction by Women (1958-1963) is an anthology of silver age SF written by women. Released 16th Aug 2019 by Journey Press, it's 276 pages and available in paperback and ebook formats. It's worth noting that the ebook format has a handy interactive table of contents as well as interactive links. I've really become enamored of ebooks with interactive formats lately.

This is a varied collection, only a couple were previously familiar to me and all were enjoyable. One reason I prefer collections and anthologies is that short fiction is really challenging. It's spare and the author doesn't have a wealth of wordage to develop characters or the plotting. Well written short fiction is a delight. I also love anthologies because if one story doesn't really grab me, there's another story just a few pages away. Each of these stories are introduced by modern day authors with background info and the intros include interesting tidbits about the authors and their works. Attributions are included in the headers with publication info.

The stories are a varied bunch but all are enjoyable high quality silver age SF and all are 3-5 stars. The styles are reminiscent of a stroll through back issues of Astounding and F&SF (when my young and non-jaded self couldn't *wait* for the new issues to hit the stands). The book also includes an erudite and well written foreword and introduction by Laura Brodian Freas Beraha and Gideon Marcus respectively. I don't recommend that readers go into this anthology searching for feminist themes and righteous indignation because they won't find it. These are classic silver age stories written in classic style by competent authors who happened to be female. There are 14 stories included and, at the very end, a facsimile mimeographed copy of the 1958 Hugo award voting ballot which really made me smile.

Four stars.

Disclosure: I received an ARC at no cost from the author/publisher for review purposes.